Short Story: Requiem for a Little Death

You died far away from home.

Nobody left to lament your life.  Nobody left to remember your name.  You did your best and asked for nothing in return.  Just an opportunity to walk on God's green earth and experience all you could before your light was extinguished.  There will be nobody left to mourn you.  Nobody left to sing your praises.  You were left to die alone with nobody to hold you as your body twitched one final time.

Death is all around us now.  We barely look up from our dinners to witness the deaths on the TV. We never think about the deaths that aren't reported, the deaths that are considered too unimportant to even warrant a moment. Is this how we were meant to live our lives?  Connected but distracted? Inspired to do our best at all costs while being content to turn the other way when it doesn't suit us?  To aim like Icarus for the sun but only when the mood inspires us?

Your death is unimportant.  I look at you with pity.  You didn't ask for this.  I didn't ask for this.  I am as surprised as anyone that I could be so easily swayed into ending your life.  I will do my best to remember you, to write some words that will mark your time on this planet so hopefully someone out there will know of you and the life you lead.  Dead, alone, far from your brothers and sisters, from your mother and father, from your community. All life is beautiful, sometimes in ways that make little sense.  We should stand up and remember the little deaths because if we can't acknowledge them then how can we make peace with who we really are inside?

On the other hand you were just a cockroach so too bad for you my twitchy friend.

Thong: 1, Cockroach: 0

 

Copyright Justin Hamilton 2017